I wrote this yesterday but forgot to press publish:
“Turns out my feature on the Cyberpunk Apocalypse for the City Paper is the cover story. I only just discovered this because I’ve been asleep off and on all fucking day. I have that feeling like when you wake up from a nap and it’s as if you’re still dreaming. But now I’m drinking coffee and if that doesn’t work I’ll try beer. I feel like I should be a little more excited about the article than I am. I can’t even link to it because they haven’t updated the website yet for this week. But I’ll get to it.”
Now it’s Thursday morning and I’m trying to decide whether or not to go to work. My editor’s taking the day off so I don’t actually have to be in the office if I turn my work in, but I don’ have internet at my apartment yet so it’s either go to the office or be that asshole who sits in the coffee shop for hours on his computer and hardly buys anything. Also, here’s the link to my Cyberpunk story.
The cute girl who talked to me as we got off the bus, bitching about the Dark Knight Rises filming downtown and disrupting everything, is here at the coffee shop too, reading the City Paper. There’ really no way to go up and say, by the way my name’s on the cover, is there? Didn’t think so.
I have a hole in my left arm, right below the elbow. First it was a raw spot, I think from a carpet burn. Then it was a blister, then it was a popped blister, which tore off and left a hole. I picked out the scab one day and now it’ll probably scar. I’ve always been a scab picker.
I’ve been reading again. Thanks once more to Alexa for the vast array of short story collections she has to lend me. It’s called No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July. It’s just as bizarre as the Keret book but in an entirely different way. The voice reeks of innocence, despite the very sexual content of some of the stories. It’s the kind of voice that makes it seem like the speaker is experiencing the world through a dense haze. Even with the title the stories are filled with some very lonely people, and I myself have been feeling very lonely.
I spent the night at a friend’s last night, because she lives in Highland Park and by the time everything was said and done I didn’t feel like fucking with the buses. I also just like sharing a bed with someone. No sex, not even spooning, but it usually just feels nice to hear someone breathing next to you as you fall asleep. She passed out almost instantly, and I was left to my thoughts, which as it turned out was not the best thing for me. It was the first time I’d felt that lonely while sharing a bed.